Dragging Ass On The Cobblestones

I haven't jogged in a long time. Before we moved, we were regularly running 5-10 miles at a time and considered ourselves in great shape. When we got out here, that changed. Moving is extremely stressful and didn't really leave me wanting for any more exertion, mentally or physically. Not to mention the fact that the running trails around the Creek are often clogged with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle-toothless-tattooed-woman-in-wife-beater-tank-top-and-jorts as they're chain smoking while I'm trying to exercise.

That changed today. Melanie is a girl I work with who also runs a variety of 5K's, 10K's, half and full marathons. Being the unabashed badass that I am, I volunteered to go run around Charleston during our lunch break today. As it goes, it seemed like a good idea at the time. The long and short of it is she kicked my ass. As an aside, when we started we ran by my buddy Richard. The dude didn't even notice me. I was literally three inches from him and I started screaming and flailing my arms like an idiot. Apparently he had his headphones on and was oblivious to me making a fool of myself in public while I was trying to get his attention. Boy did he pick the wrong dude to make enemies with. He's completely blacklisted. I spent half the run trying to convince Melanie that the guy was actually my friend.

We ran by Colonial Lake and down Murray Blvd. which runs along the brick ramparts overlooking Charleston Harbor. We stopped in White Point Gardens for a water break. I've never had such an awkward time trying to get a drink of water before. The water fountain was either a statue of an angel or a little kid, I couldn't really be sure. All I know is that the water was coming out of it's crotch. I don't think there's any way to write about this tactfully. I'm either a sacrilegious ass or a reiteration of the guy people thought I was in my mustache blog. This time I didn't have aviators on though. I bent down and went for it because I was thirsty. To my knowledge, nobody was staring or reporting me. Twice in a week would really suck. Melanie and I didn't really talk about it after that because some things are better left unsaid.

We started on our way back and I'd held my own up this point. However, the sun was out in full force and I started feeling it. As much as I didn't want to, I had to stop. I begged Melanie to keep going so as to save me the shame of getting my tail whipped by a girl. No go. She stopped and walked with me. My head was low and hers was held high in triumph. This happened at least two more times after I started running again. My dad was right, they should have named me Susie when I was born.

We eventually found ourselves back at the admissions office. I looked like our three-legged cat dragging himself across the floor. Melanie barely broke a sweat which made me feel even worse because I can't begin to describe how funky and sweaty I was. I'm seriously hoping she didn't see my tears when she said we could stop. At this point, I needed to find something to drink and she had this Coconut water thing and told me to go to this place called Caviar and Bananas around the corner to grab one. I did this in all of my sweaty glory. Yeah apparently the people at the hippy store don't like it when you come in sweaty. The check out girl LITERALLY curled her lip and threw my credit card and slip at me. I'm honestly not embellishing that at all. I am with this part though: I punched her in her blonde-ass face.

Overall I felt great albeit humbled and ashamed to have my ass handed to me in such dominant fashion...by a girl. But hey man, its 2010 so it's okay for that to happen. F you if you disagree. That's all I've got going for me right now. Hopefully I can start this running kick again and get back to where I was again soon. Also, and how badass is this, Melanie put me in touch with a dude who is going to teach me how to surf. Kristen doesn't know this yet, but we're watching Point Break this weekend. I don't know whether I should call myself Bodhi or Utah but I'm going to start talking about Fiji, and Bali, and the Pipeline. Noland on a surfboard will be the coolest thing EVER since my mom let me dress up like a ninja for Halloween in Kindergarden...which was awesome except for the battery-powered glow in the dark pumpkin she made me carry for safety. All blacked out ninja uniform plus hood and a bright orange pumpkin. Ain't nobody messing with my mama's baby boy. But I digress. I wish I wasn't balding so I could grow my hair out and let it get sun bleached so I can hang out with my new bros while I'm catching tubes and shit. This place is fun.